


Jet-Black Trailer

by Elleusive



Series: Darker Than Black [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Beacon Academy, Next Gen, RWBY next generation, RWBabies - Freeform, Shade Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleusive/pseuds/Elleusive
Summary: Introducing Jet BlackCulinary sevant, Lead band member, Sarcastic and blunt young man, and general hated member of society.In his own words, "Fuck them."





	Jet-Black Trailer

“Found you.”

Pulling a tiny spice container off the shelf and tossing it into the basket, the young man crossed his last item off the list. The shopping basket was filled to the brim with all sorts of spices, dried herbs, and extracts. Leaving the vacant isles, the young man made his purchase.

“Buying a lot today, Jet. What’s the occasion?” Mr. McCormick, a middle-aged man who held a booming voice and hair the color of sand, often chatted with him.

_‘What, don’t have enough spices already, you little cretin?’_

 “Starting my own collection.” Blunt and to the point, Jet barely gave the owner more than a few words in exchange.

_‘Rude little asshole.’_

“Is that so? Well, you came to the right place, my boy.” Finishing the transaction, Jet took his items and left.

The world was turning cold, soon to be welcoming in Winter and leaving Autumn behind like a forgotten memory. Though Vacuo didn’t have many Fall signs in the main Kingdom city, such as leaves changing color, Jet could feel it in the air. Days were no longer holding their heat and exchanged humidity for crisp air. Luckily for him, he didn’t live in the city. At least, not yet. Too much attention would have been drawn to the family had his parents decided to settle down in the Kingdom. No, his home, that sat on the edge of Southern Sanus, was quiet, secluded, and felt more like the northern nation with its experience of the seasons and lack of visible desert.

                Finding his way through Shade station, a railway for the entire continent of Sanus, he sat himself down and waited for the train to arrive. The station held a fair amount of people. Some tourists, a few making commutes much like himself, and others there to bring their children into the city earlier than needed for Shade’s new year.

                The looks the strangers gave him were ones he was familiar with. If it wasn’t his appearance, it was his name. A good portion of the world knew him. He was something of a celebrity for all the wrong reasons. Glares and fearful glances were shot in his direction as people made it their life’s mission in that moment to avoid getting close to him. Rolling his eyes, he kept them focused on nothing as he stared at the tracks.

“We’re going to be them in a few weeks.”

                A slight turn of the head showed a surprise standing before him. A strawberry blonde monkey faunus with cloudy blue eyes and a relaxed smile was the one who addressed him. Jet was a little surprised, given the odds of just running into him, but not too surprised.

“Mars. What are you doing here?”

The boy sat down next to him, his posture slumped and yawning all the while.

“My parents sent me out to pick up Xing and some dinner. Mom has a long mission starting tomorrow so we decided to just skip spending time on making food and enjoy a night together instead.” He smiled at Jet, raising his eyebrow. “You don’t approve?”

Jet grimaced. “Take out?” He turned his nose at the notion, scoffing at the idea. Jet only received an eased laugh in turn.

“You’re such a food snob, Jet. I guess I would be, too, if I could cook like you do.” The boy shrugged at the thought.

Jet kept silent. Mars’s comment may have seemed a bit harsh to others, but it didn’t bother him at all. ‘Food snob’ was a title he wore with pride.

“You know, Jet, why don’t you come over tonight? Mom has asked about you a couple of times, wondering where you’ve been. She’d love to have you over.”

Jet’s mind recalled the last few times he stayed at Mars’s home. The Wukongs were nice people. Too nice. The sweet tones and gentle care they took with him made him feel fragile. He was well aware that they saw him as someone who could break easily; possibly an abused, broken home case. Reaching was a habit that he didn’t intend on quitting. People often hid what they really wanted to say and how they truly felt. It’s human nature, but one that bothers him to no end. To return to his friends’ home would be a mixed bag of enjoyable and irritating.

“Am I going to be treated like a wounded animal again?”

Mars smiled apologetically, rubbing his arm out of discomfort.

 _‘I hope so. Probably not.’_ Was what Jet heard echo through his head, but what was actually said was “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I think they’ll grow out of that soon.”

“No you don’t.”

“…Reaching. What a semblance. Man, I might as well not even speak when talking to you.” He laughed some more, seemingly enjoying Jet’s company and curt way of speaking. Mars was an oddity, but a welcomed friend beyond anything else.

“Well, I’d best be heading into the city.” He stood up, tail twitching and swaying back and forth as if anxious. “I’ve likely made Xing wait too long. I’m going to get an earful when I reach Cover.”

“Combat school. Another huntsman?”

“Yeah. Family will be full of them, I guess.” The Faunus boy shrugged once more, throwing his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Hey, we still on for practice next weekend? I got myself a bass and I really want to try it out.”

Jet nodded. Mars smiled in return, visibly happy and excited. “Great! Well, I’ll catch you later, J! Say hi to Lapis for me.”

Jet waved subtly and watched as his friend disappeared into the crowd. Just in time, his train arrived. The young man gathered his bag and made his way onto a car, sitting by himself in a window seat. Solitude didn’t bother him. He was a boy who often lived inside his own mind as much as he did others’. The silence that being alone brought only allowed him to return to his thoughts. A list was running off in his head of all the packing that needed to be done in the next three weeks. Orientation was coming on the horizon and trying to decide on what cooking items and utensils he’d bring was causing serious headaches.

‘I wonder if the dorms even have kitchens. That’s something I need to look into. If I am forced to eat frozen, premade cafeteria swill, I’ll welcome death by starvation.’

An aching groan hummed in his throat as a sudden pain from his left leg brought him out of his mind. He massaged the flesh, though to no avail. The downside to the cold weather was the aches it brought to joints and those who lived with prosthetic limbs. With a little mental work, Jet focused on his nerve endings, mechanical “muscle” and aura to activate the dust chamber within his prosthetic. Setting just a small dose of fire dust active, the metal began to slowly warm up to a low heat. Within a few minutes, the pain was gone and his body began to welcome in the warmth.

Reaching his stop, Jet quickly got off of the train and began his arduous walk to his home. It was going to be about half an hour and though he’d love to listen to music or podcasts to chip away at the time, he knew better. The house he grew up in was fairly secluded with the closest neighbor being a mile away. With proper security and defense mechanisms, his family didn’t deal with Grimm too much, but that didn’t mean you could let your guard down on the walk to the house. His mother and father had always been adamant about Jet and his sister staying on constant alert. As such, the walk was boring and dragged on for what felt like hours. Still, the scenery was breathtaking. The path was covered on one side by forest, the other a river running parallel to the dirt road. Brilliant reds, oranges, yellows and purples blew in the air and crunched under his feet.

The sudden sound of heavy running caught his attention. Wiping his head around, he saw a familiar group of kids racing toward him. They screamed and hollered their faces red with anger.

“BLACK! YOU FUCKING FREAK!”

One of Jet’s bullies from childhood and leader of a little gang of delinquents, Razz Redding, charged ahead of the group and bolted right toward the black-clad teen. Shaking his head and taking a few steps back, Jet began running as well. He could take them. He knew that he could knock them out cold with little effort. Closing in to entering Shade Academy, however, was not the time where he should be getting into fights or beating up his peers. No, he had done that enough and added enough dirt to his name. Enough shame and past mistakes that weren’t even his to own were tied to him as well. He didn’t need more.

The pros of being his father’s son was training under him in his fighting style; a style that focused on leg strength. Endurance carried him along with the speed his legs could churn out and he kept a decent pace ahead of the group.

“You fucking pussy! Come back and fight me, coward! Telling everyone I’m a bedwetter! I am not! Get back here! Liar! You freak! Cripple! Peg leg! TRAITOR!”

The insults were coming at him like a barrage; quick and never ending. Those names and barbs that were thrown at him no longer stung him like they did in his boyhood. He didn’t allow people like Razz to get to him anymore. Keeping up his running pace, he allowed the kids to scream and yell all they wanted until they grew tired. The group, now winded, gave up and ceased their pursuit.

“IF I SEE YOU AT SHADE, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Jet didn’t stop to walk leisurely down the path even though his tormenters had long since ended their chase. The feeling of burning lungs and muscles seemed to give him renewed energy. The farther away he was from those kids, the better he felt. Outrunning them wasn’t the challenge, but their words seemed to trail after him. They invaded his thoughts and trudged up old memories of being kicked into the dirt and held down against his will. It made him wonder if not beating them to a pulp was the right decision.

Out of breath and finally at his home, he leaned against the door to collect himself. Gasps turned to pants and soon his breath and heartrate returned to normal. Walking into the home, he found it empty. A letter sat on the counter, reading off a notice about Lapis trying out for Cover Combat School this evening. His little sister, four years his junior, was following in their parents’ footsteps and showed true promise for being a huntress. Jet sighed, unloaded his seasonings and hopped into the shower to cleanse himself.

Moving back into the kitchen in a black t-shirt and black sweat pants, he started cooking up dinner for himself and family. Hunting was a good skill to have and Jet liked the idea of being paid to traveling, but it wasn’t his dream. It was a stepping stone; being a huntsman.

His true calling was behind a stove. The kitchen was his sanctuary, a private place for him to create and make delicious meals. Nothing was premade or frozen. Jet was a purest as far as food was concerned. Combining fresh produce with his own garden of vegetables, herbs and fruits, he made everything from scratch. Even the bread that the family enjoyed was mostly his creation, though sometimes he’d venture into the kingdom and visit his favorite bakery to grab fresh loaves and pastries. Being a chef and running a restaurant was all he’s wanted since he was small. Hunting would pay the bills until he could realize his dream. Until then, he’d practice and create for those around him. They may not have a perfect palate like he did, but his parents and sister loved his food all the same.

“Almost done…where is…ah, there you are.” Pulling activated charcoal from a cupboard, Jet finished making a large container of black lemonade with mint leaves and orange blossom honey. He grabbed a plate of his finished Chicken Piccata coupled with black, squid ink pasta and settled himself down at the table. The food was good and he took the alone time to make notes on the dish. Jet was a driven individual when it came to his food making skills, and his constant need for improvement was his fuel.

Dishes washed and put away, he settled down into the couch with his guitar and began practicing. His fingers picked and plucked at the strings, making chord after chord in an attempt to inspire new songs. Tonight, however, he couldn’t concentrate.

The emptiness of the house didn’t bother him. He was so used to living out his loner lifestyle that peace and quiet were almost as normal as the chaotic noise that accompanied his family. Thoughts of Shade Academy was on his mind. He didn’t think Razz would be doing anything of value with his life. Now he was going to Shade as well? Rubbing his temples, he attempted to calm his incoming headache. Placing his instrument down, Jet curled into the sofa he laid on and began to wonder just what was in store for him at school.

Mars was going, so there was that, but he’d likely never get to see him. The Academy was enormous and the faunus boy was already popular as it was. When your parents are heros, that’s what happens. People flood to you. They want to spend time with you and get to know you. That was something that Jet had never experienced beyond Mars himself. He was very much Jet’s foil; his opposite.

The thought of Shade mimicking Cover in social experience made him a little more than anxious. Being by himself didn’t bother him. That is, if he chose to be alone. Most of the time when he is out in public, however, it isn’t his choice.

People don’t really flock to the children of war criminals after all. It was the only downside to being a Sustrai-Black. The name was essentially a warning for others; an obnoxious red flag. Society had already decided what they thought of Jet before they even met him. They chose to keep their distance or throw cruel, hateful insults his way. After all, he was the son of Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black, two traitors who helped plunge Remnant into darkness for a brief time.

No one ever brings up how they defected and tried to right their mistake, how they did what they could for RWBY and those who followed under Ozpin. Instead, it was just a strict focus on what they did wrong. Jet was their son, so of course he’s just like them. He’s just as “rotten” and “evil” as his equally terrible parents.

He sighed, furrowing his brow as he curled into himself. The accusations of his family were false, but rarely would anyone listen. Going through the same social stigma all over again was going to be a pain. He hoped that he was going to experience something different for a change. It was a tiny speck of hope that he didn’t fully believe it, but it existed within him all the same. He didn’t need false acceptance. Lip service and fake pleasantries were formalities that Jet was so tired of.

“Morons, Cowards, Prejudice assholes. Fuck it. Fuck all of them.” He whispered, knowing that life won’t be different just by going to a different school. He’d still be Jet Sustrai-Black, people will still hate and fear him for no reason, and he’ll continue hating every one of them.

The vibration from his Scroll caught his attention. It was a text message from Lapis.

**Guess who is going to be kicking ass in a few weeks at Cover?! This girl! Watch your back, Jet.**

Jet rolled his eyes and smirked at his overly confident little sister. Another few texts came through, both from his mother and father. There were pictures of the three of them smirking at the camera and messages that talked about how she “kicked ass” and “made us proud”. Responding back, he shared the sentiment.

               

 

The rest of society could burn for all he truly cared. As long as his family was alive and happy, then that could probably be enough. Probably.


End file.
